


Shock Collar

by Aifrit



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Animal Play, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dominance, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Service Top, Smut, Submission, Very minor pet play just to clarify
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23771971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aifrit/pseuds/Aifrit
Summary: Practice makes the "perfect" Domme.
Relationships: Bangalore | Anita Williams/Wattson | Natalie Paquette
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Shock Collar

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Shock Collar  
> Pairing: Bangalore/Wattson  
> Rating: M for some sexual content  
> Words: 1,454
> 
> A/N: I heard through the grapevine (tumblr) about a serious lack of Bangalore/Wattson fics, so I churned this out in like 2 days. Which, if you've know me by now, is way faster than any of my usual writing. That being said, I didn't put an astronomical amount of effort into the editing because I wanted to get this done. I thought it would be a nice challenge to write for a new fandom and a ship that I don't actually ship. I will most likely be writing for this fandom (but not this ship) in the future because I'm in love with the game. Enjoy!

Anita rolls her eyes and sighs deeply as she kneels facing the corner of the living room. The sweatpants she wears does nothing to alleviate the ache in her knees. Her arms lie stiff, resting on her thighs and trembling with anticipation. She isn't supposed to move, not even a slight turn of her head, or else she's doomed to further "punishment." The idea amuses her, but Natalie's learning and any cooperation on Anita's part helps. Progress is still progress.

A sharp ring catches her ears, and she flinches, forcing her shoulders out of their slump. Footsteps pad in from the next room along with the chipper, accented voice of her squadmate.

"Time's up, Anita! Did you learn your lesson?"

She can't even see Natalie's face with her own nose pressed to the wall, but there's a certain level of smugness dripping from the young woman that makes Anita want to break her obedience and push her further.

...But she adheres to the rules, talking at the wall. "I might have. Why don't you give me a refresher so it sticks?"

Natalie scoffs behind her. She places a gentle hand on Anita's shoulder.

Anita turns away from the wall to look up at Natalie. She's wearing her most comfortable clothing - a simple shirt and pajama shorts. Not the first thing that comes to mind with Domme attire, but hell.

Natalie cups Anita's cheek, caressing with her thumb. Her touch is gentle as ever, and as she scratches the underside of Anita's chin _like a puppy_ , she hums. "Why can't you be good for once?"

Good? It wasn't her fault they were stuck with Elliott as a third for trios in this event. As competent as he is in the arena, he lets his mouth run wilder and further than his ass can keep up with. Of course she isn't going to tolerate the disrespect, and doubly so when it concerns Natalie. She _had_ to give him a rather loud and verbal tongue lashing. But regardless of excuses, it isn't what Natalie wants to hear.

The question is a test, and Anita knows it. But who gives a fuck, really; her resolve is cracking.

"What? You don't like it when I'm bad?" Anita whispers, and judging by the subtle rise of the corner of Natalie's lips, she's managed to break through the tough-girl act even just a little.

Natalie holds back a chuckle, muttering something in French as she playfully pushes Anita back on her ass. Before Anita can protest, Natalie straddles her, holding the soldier's arms above her head.

It's not like Anita hasn't been in this situation before, and it's not like she can't easily get out of it. The carpet doesn't exactly feel great scraping the back of her neck, but she can't help herself; Natalie's cute and too easy to fluster, so she just enjoys the weight settling on her lap.

Blonde hair that hasn't seen a haircut in months brushes Anita's forehead. Another slew of French caresses the soldier's ear before Natalie swaps to English again, maybe a translation.

"You are _such-_ " She pokes Anita's nose. "-a troublemaker. What am I gonna do with you, hmm?"

Rhetorical question.

Anita just smirks, lifting into Natalie, looking her up and down as she speaks, "Dunno about you, but uh… I got _several_ ideas."

The purr that escapes Natalie rumbles in the pit of her chest, and she reciprocates with a wriggle in Anita's lap. "O-Of course you do. _But_ , I want to finish, okay? I'm not done being in... _charge_." She holds back a dorky smile at her pun. It wasn't the _first_ time she's made that joke, and if Anita has to guess, it's nothing more than a nervous response to break tension.

Anita ultimately wants to protest, but she decides against it. "Gonna let me up now?"

The Lichtenberg and freckles dotting Natalie's cheek crinkle at the hint of a smile. She instead purses her lips and tilts her head. "Mm, I don't know. Are you gonna be good?"

"Define 'good.'"

"Good as in…" Natalie descends, nipping at Anita's ear as she speaks. "...obedient, _quiet,_ eager to please?" With the last suggestion her voice inflects; she sounds unsure, her obvious inexperience betraying her.

Granted, Anita usually leads, calling all the shots, but lately Natalie has been _begging_ to try. Honestly, she's like a puppy _herself_ ; too eager to learn and digest for her own good. Getting her paws on anything even remotely fascinating proves dangerous as her attention doesn't sway easily. It's endearing how well she tries and succeeds.

Natalie hesitates, dragging a slender finger down Anita's arm before she lets her go. Anita wastes no time, gliding fingertips across her hip, up to trace the subtle ridges of her ribs under her shirt.

"Eager to please, huh? Aren't I always?"

"Ssshush…" And Natalie silences her with scolding lips before dismounting, untangling herself from Anita's newfound grasp.

From Anita's spot on the floor, she sees Natalie amble to the couch to sit and relax. "Here. Sit. And be good."

Fine, she'll cooperate. Anita gets up and kneels right where Natalie points between her legs. Natalie caresses her again with a quick chin rub, then leans back into the couch. Anita _knows_ where this is going, but the anticipation of fulfilling a need excites her to the point of trembling. She waits with bated breath, focus trained on Natalie's blue eyes.

Natalie tries to hold her gaze but drops it, blushes red in the face. When she recovers, she doesn't falter, just pulls Anita's face into her shorts and whispers, " _Eat_ …"

Anita smirks, whispers a sultry "yes, ma'am" and pulls Natalie closer. She hooks her fingers in the waistband of the young woman's shorts. Pulls. The flimsy fabric slides off her legs as Natalie lifts her hips. No panties. Not surprised.

Anita smells her well before she tastes. She takes a deep breath - heady and soft, deep and familiar. A simple tongue flick makes Natalie writhe and shirk back, before her nails scratch at Anita's temple. She spreads Natalie's lower lips with her fingers, dragging her tongue from opening to clit. Another jerk and shudder.

The moan that escapes is delightful and energetic, giving way to hushed stutters. Natalie stumbles over her words, mixing English and French, until she settles with a huff. "G-Gentle… please…"

Anita placates her, caressing the outside of her thigh. "I got you…"

Natalie's sensitive; Anita's careful, respectful. The fingers on her temple drum at her skull, thumping, nervous. Her own fingers dip within, coated with Natalie's essence. Every caress is met with equal force on her scalp. Natalie really is too gentle and nice for her own good.

Anita adjusts herself on her knees and lifts one of Natalie's legs to rest on her shoulder. The adjustment is jarring, if anything, as evident by Natalie's squirming in her seat.

"Gonna wet the couch," Anita states. Frankly, she doesn't care either way. It's Natalie's residence for the Games, and she is only a much welcome visitor.

Natalie's response is just...flippant. She struggles, choking out attempted words before she settles on a purring shush. "Shh…" She trails off, right into silence, as her grip in Anita's hair tightens. "Just…Mm…"

She clearly doesn't care either.

Anita only chuckles, feeling Natalie twitch with every stroke of her tongue. Finally, her fingers play, pull back the hood of the writhing woman's clit. It takes no more than two labored strokes of her tongue to make Natalie crumble.

"Ah-" Natalie squeaks, squeezing _hard_. She squirms, comes undone at the seams, and releases. She spasms once, twice, and jerks forward on Anita's tongue. She whimpers and pushes Anita's head away, as gently as one can manage during an orgasm.

Anita licks her lips as she backs away, locking eyes. Natalie's face blushes the color of roses as her leg falls from Anita's shoulder.

"I- uhm… I'm… sorry…" Natalie covers her face in her hands, muttering in French. "That was… too fast."

"Means I did a good job then, right?"

Natalie gives a lazy chuckle. "Mmm… yeah I think so." She stretches a hand out. "Come here, please?" She stands, wobbles on shaky legs, and moves to the side.

Anita sits, taking her place, and pulls Natalie into her lap, who just rests her head against Anita's shoulder.

Natalie pokes Anita in the belly, trying her best not to pout. "I know I can do better next time."

"You did good _this_ time. Don't worry about it." The smile Anita gives tugs at her eyes and lips. It's genuine, reserved for the young woman atop her lap.

Natalie just shrugs. "Thanks. I still think I'd like more lessons beforehand?"

"We'll see about that."


End file.
